The Tavern
by Ash M. Knight
Summary: Emma Swan, a barmaid, meets a beautiful young woman in her tavern and only finds out later who she really is. One-shot. SwanQueen.
The tavern was dimly lit by candlelight, and as the young woman carried the tray full of mugs of beer, she struggled to prevent herself from tripping over the numerous benches in the establishment. Unfortunately, this attempt was unsuccessful, and just as she turned to the side to slip between two closely placed tables, she bumped directly into one and stumbled forward, spilling three of the four drinks on the well-dressed patron on the bench as the other fell to the floor.

"Oh, my God," the young woman stammered. "I am _so_ sorry, sir!"

"You clumsy wench!" the burly man shouted, standing up and tearing off his jacket that was now soaked in beer.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried. "I'll go get some towels!"

She disappeared quickly and nearly stumbled again as she turned away, but managed to catch her balance as she pushed her way through the crowd and back into the kitchen where she fetched the items as promised. By the time she brought them back, the man was red with fury. Before she could hand over the tattered rags, he had grabbed her by the throat and squeezed tightly.

"I ought to have you whipped and beaten for that, you little cunt!"

"I'm... I'm s-sorry!" she coughed, too scared to try to grab his hands away.

"Hey!" a voice rang out. "Let her go!"

When the man turned to look behind him, he was surprised that the woman who had so brashly ordered him to release the waitress was wearing particularly fine clothing and held herself straight with immense dignity and boldness.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped.

"That is none of your concern. You will release her immediately."

"I'll do no such thing."

"Oh?" she said cooly, stepping forward, revealing a knife, and holding it against the side of his neck. "I suggest you back away and leave this establishment before I spill your blood on this floor just like she spilled those beers."

The man's face grew red again, this time with shock, so he reluctantly let go of the young, blonde, and attractive woman and turned to leave.

"And don't come back," the spirited woman asserted.

The man muttered something under his breath as he made his way out of the tavern, leaving his own mug of beer half-finished on the wooden table.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked the waitress, concern on her features.

Shaken, the younger woman reached up and rubbed her throat.

"I'm alright," she said. "That hurt though."

"Do you need medical attention?"

"No, no. I'm okay, really."

"You don't look okay."

"I'm just startled. I feel like an idiot, and honestly... I also feel bad about spilling those drinks on him. That was horrible."

"It was an accident," the woman told her.

"It's a good thing you were armed," the waitress said. "You were very brave. Thank you."

The woman nodded humbly and sheathed her knife.

"Can I buy you a drink, Miss...?" the blonde asked, trailing off after the word "miss."

"I don't give my name," the woman told her, "and I don't accept charity. However, I will pay for my own drink."

"Really, I-"

"No, thank you. As I said, I pay my own way."

The younger woman sighed, but said, "Here, let me clean off a table for you."

The other woman nodded as Emma took her last clean rag and wiped down the table at a two person booth, then motioned for the dark haired woman to sit down.

"I'll be right back," the blonde said, disappearing into the kitchen.

When she returned with the drink, the woman was holding the candle that was illuminating the booth.

"Playing with fire, are we?" the waitress teased with a smile.

"I like candles," the woman replied, smiling back at her.

At the younger of the two set the mug on the table, the brunette looked her up and down, taking in her lean features.

Before the waitress could turn to leave, the blonde noticed this and boldly stated, "You're very pretty."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'You're very pretty.'"

"I do believe you're hitting on me."

"Perhaps," the waitress said flirtatiously, then turned and walked away.

Approximately twenty minutes later, when the blonde was passing her table, the woman said, over the roar of numerous conversations in the background, "Miss, would you be so kind as to bring me another drink?"

"Of course, m'lady. I'll be right back."

"Oh, and I'd like to order a meal as well, if possible."

"Absolutely. What would you like?"

"Your finest steak with broccoli would be lovely."

When the young woman returned, she said, "Here you are, m'lady," setting the plate and the mug down in front of the woman. "Would you like anything else?"

"No thank you, Miss," the woman replied with a small smile, handing over a few heavy coins to pay for the meal. "That will be all."

The blonde, bracing herself on the table with one hand, leaned in, and said smoothly, "Are you sure?"

The brunette was unable to avert her eyes as the young woman's exposed cleavage nearly burst from her dress.

"I..."

"Anything at all?"

"Perhaps... Perhaps a bit of company? Could you take a break?"

"I'm afraid not. They don't allow me to take breaks here, what with my being a lowly kitchen wench and all, but I do get off in a half an hour," the blonde replied, then added seductively, "What kind of company might you enjoy?"

After a pause, the woman spoke slowly and said, "Of yours? Any."

This nearly brought a blush to the waitress' cheeks, but she was able to suppress it. Instead, she maintained her sultry attitude and even leaned in slightly closer.

"That can be arranged."

Without another word, the waitress went back to work, but her mind wandered to the beautiful woman seated in the corner of the tavern. Though she was surprised to receive the attention from such an elegant person, she was glad to have caught the woman's attention. This was clear from the woman's gaze, which had quite obviously traveled to the blonde's breasts just minutes before. When she returned to the table, she sat down and gazed at the brunette, wondering what she was thinking.

"Shall we take a walk?" the woman asked, to which the blonde nodded and stood up.

The two exited the noisy, crowded building and slipped into the darkness of the night.

"There's a path in the woods, if you're not afraid," the waitress offered, gesturing to the opening in the edge of the forest.

"Of course I'm not afraid!" the woman snapped.

"I apologize," the blonde said quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's alright," the brunette said, her voice more gentle than before. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Let's go."

With one hand, the young woman held a small lamp that barely illuminated the path, and the other she extended with her elbow bent outwards.

"You may take my arm... if you'd like..."

The woman hesitated, considering the offer, then slipped her hand through the opening in her arm and placed her hand there.

"Thank you," she said slowly, looking over at the young woman she was walking with.

"Of course, m'lady. It's my pleasure."

"Oh?" the woman asked with a sly smile.

"Certainly."

"It's mine as well," the brunette replied, then added after a few moments, "You're very pretty yourself."

"I whole-heartedly disagree," the young woman retorted, refusing to meet the other's eyes.

"You may disagree all you'd like, but it's the truth nonetheless."

With a sigh, the blonde continued down the path without responding, declining to begin an argument with the attractive woman she had just met.

After a while, the woman said, "Let's sit."

The blonde nodded and sat down slowly on a rock a few paces away, then finally looked over at the beautiful woman.

"I like the dark," the brunette said. "I think it assists in concealing who we truly are."

"And who are you?"

"As I said, I don't offer my name."

"I didn't ask for your name."

"I can't tell you," the woman said simply.

The blonde tilted her head, confused.

"Why ever not?"

"I suppose I don't want to."

"You said you _couldn't_."

"That's true as well."

After a pause, the blonde said, "My name is Emma."

The brunette smiled at her, saying, "That's a beautiful name," and looked her over once more, then added, "and you're a beautiful young woman."

"Why did you ask for my company?"

"Because you're attractive," the woman replied, "and I enjoy the company of attractive woman. Of course, you are a a bit young for me, but I suppose youth in and of itself is attractive as well, though I imagine someone like you will also age beautifully."

At last, the younger woman blushed, and even in the dim light of the tiny lamp, the brunette noticed.

"Blushing, are we?" the brunette teased.

"Perhaps."

"That's alright. You're pretty when you blush." The blonde bit her lip, suddenly shy, but the woman leaned in and whispered, "Kiss me."

So the younger woman complied and touched their lips together, kissing her slowly until the brunette pulled away.

"You, dear girl," the woman said, "are a wonderful kisser."

"I've had plenty of practice."

"Oh?"

"No. You're the first woman I've ever kissed."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"A virgin to a woman. I like that." Again, the young woman blushed, until the other said, "I want to take you. In my bed. Tonight."

"Now?"

"Now."

* * *

So the two went back to the cottage where the woman was staying, making love for the rest of the night.

In the morning, to Emma's great surprise, the woman, without being prompted, said, "I think I may have to tell you something, Emma."

"What is it?"

"I'm... My name is Regina Mills..."

"Oh, my God," the blonde gasped, sitting straight up in bed, throwing the covers off of her. "Oh, my God. You're the _queen!_ "

"I'm... Please calm down... It's not... I'm not..."

"Oh, my God."

"Emma, please!" the woman cried, reaching out for the younger woman's hand, but Emma pulled away.

"I'm just a peasant!"

"I don't care!"

"I couldn't possibly... I can't believe... Oh, my God."

"Emma! _Please_ don't freak out. I'm just like anyone else. I don't care that you're not a noble. You're beautiful. You're enchanting. Why shouldn't I allow myself to be romantically involved with you? Why do I have to be so different?" This caught the young woman off guard, giving the older one the chance to finally take her hand and pull her gently closer as she implored, "Please, come back to bed."

"It's... It's late... I should... I should go..."

"Please."

Bright red and nearly shaking, Emma asked, "Are you sure? I feel like I've... like I've... committed a crime..."

"Well, you haven't."

"But-"

"Just come here."

Reluctantly, Emma sat down on the bed beside the brunette, waiting for her to make the next move. This, the woman did slowly, with tenderness, as she wrapped her arms around Emma and kissed her lips.

"I want you to come back to the palace with me," the woman told the blonde.

"I couldn't possibly. I'm a lowly peasant and you're... You're the _queen!_ "

"And I do as I please," she said. "Don't say no."

At last, Emma nodded her head and conceded, finally melting into the woman's arms.


End file.
